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sakkiichi · 1 year ago

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CASTLES CRUMBLING.

Memories of you are both cathartic and painful when he visits your grave.

ft. Kaedehara Kazuha, Xiao, Scaramouche/Wanderer, Lyney, Neuvillette x gn! reader.

cw/genre: angst.

if you enjoy this, reblogs and comments help more than likes !

✧ KAEDEHARA KAZUHA

Autumn. The time of year that brought warm memories to the wandering samurai despite its chilly winds.

Shades of scarlet coated Inazuma’s grassy plains, like a rain constituted by droplets of dawn light when the maple leaves swayed to the ground.

And amidst this scene, you.

You, who danced to the tune of the foliage floating in the breeze; you, who snuggled his red scarf closer around your neck when he wrapped it around you, taking in his sweet cinnamon-like scent; you, whose hand used to fit perfectly in his, as you ran your thumb over the scarred skin under his bandages.

Kazuha finds himself staring at those now. He remembers all too well how you used to wrap them around his hand. Your lips brushed over every indentation in his burnt skin, overwriting storms with sunlight and blue skies.

“All healed now.” You sing-sang, the tenderness of your kiss over the wrapped scars.

It feels empty now, his grasp, still searching for you every morning, but you’re out of reach.

Even now, as the wandering poet’s head rests against you, he can’t quite feel your touch.

“Hello, my dove.” He begins, fingers brushing over the dendrobiums surrounding you. Moondust lashes kiss his cheeks when the sunsets in his stare cloud over, the image of your smiling face behind his lids. “It’s already autumn, remember how you called it our season, my angel?” He softly says, turning his head slightly, so that his forehead partially leans on you. “The leaves are turning red already, I’ve picked some for you.” Kazuha utters, as he gently threads them around the stone.

Hard. Cold. So unlike the warmth you radiated. He sighs, opening his eyes, tender hearths to warm your paralyzed heart.

“I’ve been writing too…” Dampness pools around his lashes. “Haikus, poems, because I know you love them, hummingbird…” The samurai’s voice cracks, vision blurry, as he traces the letters of the name he used to breathe in between kisses.

Your name. The only one that will forever echo through his sweetest dreams, double edged now.

Droplets of molten moonlight slide down Kazuha’s cheeks, colliding with the earth separating you from the world.

“We will meet again, my dove.” He vows, kneeling on the grass, moist by his tears. “In some corner of the next life. I promise, love.”

As he stands up, retracing his steps, the wind picks up.

Kazuha clutches his red scarf closer to him.

Your scent still lingers.

✧ XIAO

Spring had never felt so cold.

The sun over Liyue’s mountains is too dull; the glaze lilies appear closed off; the days feel too long.

The conqueror of demons makes his way through Guili Plains, his steps slow, as if that would keep away a cruel reality that’s set in stone.

He’s coming to meet you, and yet he’s never felt so far away from you.

In the few steps that separate the yaksha from you, an infinity of memories and bittersweet dreams seem to wash over him. They mingle with the scent of morning dew over qingxins bloomed anew.

Qingxin. What he used to call you.

“Xiaooo!” You cooed, a smile sweeter than the treat you offered him alight on your lips. “Dessert’s ready, love.” You called, offering him the plate of delicious almond tofu.

It was always his favorite, especially the one made by you.

His cheeks took on a tint not unlike the lipstick marks you left on him when you felt like teasing him, peppering his face with your honeyed kisses. You always used to chuckle at the sight.

“Qingxin…” his voice quivered, in awe, gaze of gold widened, sparkly. “There is no need for you to go through this trouble for me…”

“Nonsense!” You cut him off, hands cradling his cheeks. “I love making your favorite food for you, baby.”

Now he brings one of his own scarred hands to his face.

It’s so cold in comparison to your comforting warmth.

Yet even colder is the grey hue of the heavy stone that comes into view: the one marking the spot where you were laid to rest for good.

Slowly, resigned to the inevitability of reality, the vigilant yaksha reaches you.

Even though he knows he will no longer have you.

Xiao’s whole form trembles when he leaves the handmade butterfly over your gravestone. Its petal wings are all crooked, his grip vice-like in his anguish.

Now the flower-made insect will never fly again. A crystal bubble, lit up on his darkest nights, inside which dreams warm and sweet were recounted, as long as the adeptus stayed in your embrace; now shattered, only sharp fragments left to pierce his heart.

“I’m sorry…” is all the demon conqueror can manage as greeting, the moment he sits before you, head hung low.

The karma he bears had never crushed him this badly.

✧ SCARAMOUCHE

Winter squalls leave nothing but ashes behind.

The layers of snow have started melting, decrepit twigs following, the aftermath of a furious gale, death in its wake.

The wanderer seems to verse in the bony hands of it often, after all. This life, this world… they only ever took from him, shattered mirrors as the only remains of promises to never come.

He rests the back of his head on the frigid stone. He doesn’t care about the last remains of snow seeping into his very crafted bones.

Scaramouche’s hand closes into a fist, dirt and melted ice on his skin.

“They took you away too…” The puppet breathes, inexistent puffs of his words sifting against the blackened skies in the cold. His indigo gaze is clouded over, despite stars littering every corner of the midnight above.

A lie.

Make believe. Like thinking he could be happy for once.

Turning around, Scaramouche presses his forehead against what’s left to symbolize you.

“Why?” He asks, teeth gritted, to stop the helpless quiver of his lip. “Why you too?”

The softness of your human embrace takes ahold of his memories, as you both lay beneath the endless firmament above.

“Have you ever wished upon a star, Kuni?” You asked, your warm fingers combing through the distant nights contained in his shiny locks.

“Pft, are you serious?” He used to retort, the mirrored galaxies of his stare coming into view as his eyelids opened.

“Very.” You stated, without stopping your movements, eyes never leaving the starfields above.

“Why?” He asked, focused on your profile, as if a part of him knew how ephemeral instants like this would become, committing to memory the only constellation that lit up his hollow heart.

“Because it’s nice, to hope, to believe in things… wouldn’t you agree?” You smiled down at him, tender hands cradling the coolness of his jawline.

“Huh, if you say so…”

“You know I’m right!” You chuckled, poking his cheek playfully, his nose scrunching up in feigned annoyance.

“Ugh, whatever.”

“Make a wish?” Your fingers found his in the night breeze, entwining together, the warmth of a small sun just for him.

“Fine…” He sighed, closing his eyes, lashes of concealed dreams leaning on his perfect cheekbones.

“I wished for forever with you.” He croaks out now.

An almost god brought to his knees by the treacherous fate written in devious stars.

His vision blurs, headed skyward, the universe above, a multitude of molten wildfires to him, raining down in flammable rain, his own tears the match to ignite them.

The failed god weeps. Winter burns.

✧ LYNEY

“You never know what can happen in the blink of an eye.”

Those were the words the magician once uttered, as your eyes lit up in wonder. He believes to recall it was a summer night, when his dusky gaze set on you for the first time.

Beaming and shining with excitement, you marveled at his sleight of hand, as the lumidouce bell on the performer’s hand vanished, only for its petals to have tinted in rosy shades of rainbow when the bloom next appeared in your hair.

If anyone had told Lyney, in that moment, that you’d end up putting his heart under spell, he wouldn’t have quite believed it.

But thinking back on it now, the time spent next to you certainly feels like mere seconds.

A peculiar figure sporting a top hat makes his way towards Fontaine’s graveyard.

His steps are monotone, the usual cheshire-like grin on his visage is nowhere to be seen, and in his hands, flowers abound.

Lumidouce bells.

The color of goodbyes, separations.

And the summer nights under which he used to kiss you.

“Please, Lyney! I want to see another one!” You begged, hands clasped together, eyes reflecting the last rays of the setting sun.

Your lover hums, his gaze, the backdrop against which the sunsets in your stare sparkled.

“Well, mon coeur,” the magician leaned forward, “I’ll have to charge you for it this time, you know.”

You pouted, marcotte colored lips irresistibly sweet, a bite of sugary peach in the heat of an early midsummer’s night.

“Close your eyes, my rose.” Lyney breathed, in the little dusk-lit millimeters separating you two.

“Okay.”

Warmth flooded around him the instant his lips enveloped yours, akin to fairy lights in the coziness of a familiar room, fiery arrows that linked two hearts. Your lover’s hands cupped your jawline, spells written in the caress of his gloved touch over your skin.

A new breed of magic, with the sun dipping behind the nation of hydro’s mountains to give the lovers privacy.

When he next opens his eyes, the allure has faded.

No trace of you remains, save for the emptiness and cold beside him.

And the only nightmare he can’t undo; your tombstone all too palpable, too real.

“You really never know how everything can change in the blink of an eye, huh?” Lyney utters, his voice raw, hoarse.

Despite the lumidouce bells’ petals shifting from dusk to dawn the moment he lays them to rest over you, the magician feels like he’s shooting arrows made of shadows; there’s no fiery beacon to light up this night.

The curtain closes when he steps away, rainbow roses bleeding and lonely in his wake.

The sun has set.

✧ NEUVILLETTE

Off-key birdsong and steely skies.

Those are Fontaine’s Chief Justice’s companions today.

Alone, he sits next to the ghost of someone he used to adore.

Someone he still loves.

Crystalline amethyst eyes scan the horizon. Even the seas seem turbulent today, relentless waves colliding against jutting rocks, as if by persistence alone they could cut through them.

The wailing ocean mirrors Neuvillette’s actions; as if by staring in the distance, he could somehow conjure you up back into the world, on forgotten dreams and pieces of flashbacks alone.

“It looks like it will rain soon, my dearest.” He softly says, the words lost in the monsoon overcasting the heavens.

Naturally, no answer follows, except for the agonized cry of a fallen sparrow.

The Iudex of Fontaine sighs. An upheaval in the blowing mistral combs through his hair, the sensation unlocking the pages of a diary once rose-colored, now only scattered petals over a lake that’s gone still for good.

“Isn’t the weather so nice lately, Neuvi?” You chirped, knees folded over the azure flowerbeds. Your hands were carded through your lover’s long locks, silver seafoam running almost hypnotizingly between your fingers.

Sunbeams glittered all around you when his eyes opened up to you, enigmas from the depths being laid bare for you alone.

“It is, darling…” He trailed off, one of his hands touching the side of your face, eliciting giggles from you.

Pink dusted over the pallor of his cheeks whenever you did that.

If only all days could be sunny, if only he could have kept the symphony of your laugh forever playing…

The sea’s surface turns charcoal, undulating with the low whistling of uprising gales.

Dark spots start appearing over the stone where your name’s been eternally put to sleep.

Beneath the blindfold, Justice mourns.

It’s raining again.

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the-fandom-is-now-my-life · 9 months ago

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So uh...I know the odds of this happening is slim to none, but I figure I'll shoot my shot: the Creator having a little one, who is sporting a small diamond marking on their forehead? (Xiao, it's Xiao as the dad.) And for fun: Venti somehow gets blamed for this! :D

Tsarita: The Yaksha has an Anemo Vision. Of course someone who uses the element of Barbatos would be so forward as to try something with the Creator!

Venti: I DID NOTHING, WHY AM I BEING BLAMED?!

A forever diamond

WC: ~600

Cw: Raiden is alloyist 😔

Imagine if this happened close to cloud retainer and she just side eyes Xiao like "this one is impressed the conqueror of demons has, what the younger generations call, rizz"

Xuezhui’s birthdays are a whole event for liyue, somewhat of an unofficial holiday, people are often given half day or the whole day to roam the streets, different vendors setting stalls with food and trinkets.

A room would get rented in the xinyue salon and the seven stars and the archons would accompany for lunch and a small dessert for the toddler.

As you finish eating and leave Xuezhui on the floor she starts running to a small group of children, zhongli trailing behind her so you could finish your conversation with keqing.

Regal as when he was an archon zhongli stands a few meters away from the little group of children playing tag. Sometimes he can't help but let himself drift in his thoughts, Xuezhui is so similar to Xiao when he rescued him, even when only a handful of people remember that day he can see it as clear as day. Could Xiao have spent his younger life as carefree as this little girl?

Suddenly he is snapped from his daydream by a scream and sobbing.

“What is it, little one?” zhongli leans forward where xuezhui was seated crying, some of her friends surrounding her. He saw her fall while chasing each other but it didn't seem hard enough for her to not keep playing.

“It hurrrttss” her hands clasped on her forehead, tear clouding her eyes.

“Let me see” softly he pries her hands away, expecting to see some flushed skin, maybe a bruise or some blood but it was neither of those, rather it was a small purple diamond “...interesting”

“What happened over here?” Quickly you walk towards them, worried about the soft sniffles and suddenly falling to the floor. She makes grabby hands so you perch her on your hip, smoothing her hair.

“Someone can't refuse her inheritance for too long” he taps between his brows, letting you know. Swiftly you move her bangs, showing a small diamond just under her hairline.

“I thought it was make up”

“it would make sense with his depressive persona but as you already know adepti have no need for vision and merely wear one to comply with human expectations,” he picks something up from the floor, a small golden plate before placing it on the silk in the back of her dress “on the contrary, half adeptus like Ganyu need a vision to canalize elemental energy yet can use adeptal features to hone their abilities”

“I can barely manage her as it's, don't tell me that was a vision”

His hand falls on your shoulder, a stiff smile trying not to laugh at you “I would invest in fire insurance”

Seemingly your defeated face was very visible, even from a few meters away, or you took a fair amount of time, as some archon and Ningguang were approaching you.

“Is anything wrong I could help with?” Ningguang speaks first, wandering what might have happened.

“Xuezhui fell, just a small nick on the forehead” zhongli snickers behind you.

“if she hurt herself I'm sure Dr Baizhu wouldn't mind checking her up quickly” she attempts to check her but you change her to the other side, attempting to hide her mark.

“She is fine, she just got scared and is a bit cuddly”

“oh, what a shame, I wanted to try her beloved almond tofu but if she is so stuck with you we will have to leave it for another occasion”

“Almond tofu! Let's go” she jumps out of your arms and jumps towards Raiden, who notices instantly the soft purple diamond “mmh, what is this?” she swipes her thumb over it but it doesn't smudge, the edges perfectly neat.

“Who does that remind me of?” Venti taps his chin.

“the vigilant yaksha?...” Ningguang mumbles under her breath. She did know he took the role of your bodyguard but never thought your relationship would be so more intimate

“So in the end it WAS your fault…”

“but he is from Liyue! It's Morax’s fault!”

“But he has an anemo vision”

“What is that supposed to mean?!”

“All anemo vision holders are libertine or lazy”

“Hey! That is alloyism!”

“who would have guessed this would work out nicely for me”

#genshin impact #gi #sagau #genshin x reader #self aware genshin impact #sagau x reader #genshin impact sagau #genshin sagau #genshin impact xiao #xiao x reader #genshin xiao

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vividraft · 3 months ago

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fading remembrance ✧˖*°࿐

⇢ ˗ˏˋ gn!reder x xiao, wanderer, kazuha (seperate)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ summary: he was there with you when you spent your last moments on earth. but living without you was never something he could have ever imagined

⇢ ˗ˏˋ important notes: this is a repost from my old account (@/rainstops)

⇢ ˗ˏˋ a/n: I reformatted this post while i was watching aitsuki nakurus life stream... her speaking voice is so nice she sounds like kiritani haruka

old posts masterlist tba !

whenever xiao ordered almond tofu at any restaurant, it always tasted the same. even when he cooked it himself. it always had the same taste. The tofu being as bland as tofu usually is, and the dish tasting sweet and like almonds. just what you would expect almond tofu to be. nothing more and nothing less.

but when you appeared in his life, xiao found out you liked cooking. and when you found out that almond tofu was his favorite dish, you immediately went out of your way to learn how to make almond tofu. knowing that xiao ate it a lot, you asked him if he could taste it. xiao did what you asked him to. but what he did not expect was that the almond tofu tasted different. not in a bad way, but whenever you cooked it, it tasted like you had put your emotions onto a plate. like a little piece of joy, you served xiao. It was the first time, xiao could for sure say that he enjoyed something. but the word 'enjoy' did not feel like it was enough to describe the way he felt.

He loved the dish, he loved how skilled you were at cooking it, but most of all, he loved you.

and you loved him too.

you loved him as long as you could. you loved him, before the passing of time took your life. xiao loved you a lot longer than just that. He loved everything about you. He loved the way you would smile at him, because you gave him a different smile you gave your friends, your family or strangers.

When his immortality kept him right where he was, he realized how frozen in time he felt. for you everything moved on so quickly, and soon it was over. xiaos days remained the same old and blank routine before you showed up, and it returned to being the same when you left. but after your death, everything seemed to be so heavy. his eyelids, his arms, his legs, his head, but especially his heart.

He searched all across teyvat, for a person, a restaurant or anyone, who could cook almond tofu the exactly way you did. He wanted to taste it again, even if it was just once more.

he despaired when he couldn't find a way to make his favorite dish taste the way you made it taste, but his whole world crumbled only then, when he realized he couldn't remember how it tasted. he stopped counting the days and the nights he spend living, because why would it matter if he was slowly forgetting you?

he used to do it, so he could remember your birthday, or your anniversary, or any day that was special to you. but now you are gone, and xiaos memories are leaving as well.

venti wrote many songs in his life. many of them telling stories, but just as many of them just there to sound pretty.

but then when you showed up, he had someone to write songs for. He wrote them about you, and for you. and you sang the songs together.

venti loved your voice. your voice was the best part of his songs. to him, it sounded like an angel's voice.

not only your singing voice, but your voice in general. it made his heart beat so fast, it nearly sprang out of his chest. Whenever you greeted him with a smile on your face, it was like all his worries and problems disappeared into thin air.

maybe he took it for granted. Maybe he expected to be able to wake up everyday and sing in the kitchen with you while preparing breakfast together. Maybe he just thought you could sing him to sleep every night.

Well it so happened that that was not the case.

a member of the fatui took your life, and your angelic voice right with it. venti was there. venti was there, when the knife of the fatui found your back. the next moments were a mere blur to venti. He remembers getting rid of the fatui, and in the following moments, he held you in his arms, pleading to be able to hear your voice again.

he mumbled something along the lines of healing you, but you told him that it was too late. it was you who spoke those words, with the voice he loved so much. you lifted a hand to his cheek, and said the three words he loved hearing from you so much. a tear left his eye and fell right under your eye, on your cheek, making it look like it was a tear of your own. He held you in his arms tightly, like it could prevent you from leaving the world.

That was when you spoke your last words.

'Thank you' they were.

thank you? What were you thanking him for?

your eyes closed, and the smile you had on your face the last moments before your death left. your hand slowly sank from his face, and he held your hand.

your hands were usually cold, but this time it bothered him. this time it felt like it was only pointing towards your death.

The wanderer never held much appreciation for the people around him. that was until you came around. it was like you could see right through him, and his facade. like you could see the way he crumbled on the inside, not knowing how to handle his own emotions.

He loved the way you held his hand. your warm hand felt very relaxing against his usual cold one. often you would play with them as well. whenever he was having an especially hard day, because some people kept annoying him, you'd sit down with him. his head in your lap while you were massaging one of his hands. you'd listen carefully as he talks about the people that would annoy him throughout the day. at the end, you would give him a kiss on the forehead. although often enough he'd already been asleep by then.

but you seemed to know him better than he knew himself. you knew what he needed and when he needed it. Whenever he was about to explode from anger, you hugged him, since you seem to very well know that all the anger is built up from all the things that happened to him.

a tear fell as you held scaramouche close to you. one hand around his body, and the other on the back of his head, as his head was resting on your shoulder. the tears were wetting your shoulder but you didn't mind. you would do anything to make scaramouche happy again.

another tear fell, another one, and another one. but this time it was the day you died.

with widened eyes you dropped to the floor on your knees, scaramouche caught you before you could drop to the floor. a singular tear fell from your eye as well.

scaramouche held your body tightly against his, as if you would disappear if he would let go. In this scenario, this was the case, but no matter how close he'd hold you, there was nothing he could do.

he held you the way you did it, everytime he was upset. with an arm around your body, and a hand on the back of your head, while your head was laying against his shoulder.

'i can't breathe scaramouche. i'm scared'

were the last words you spoke, before your eyes slowly closed.

scaramouche had never cried that much in his life. not when he was betrayed so often, not when his mother threw him out like he was nothing, and not whenever you would comfort him.

scaramouches chest filled with regret. he wishes he would have been there for you at least as much as he was there for you. he wishes he bought you more presents for even just putting up with him. he wishes he would have just gotten over his ego and thanked you. he would do all those things and so much more, just so he could repay you.

you remember the day so clearly, when kazuha confessed his love to you. his usually so casual demeanor was all gone, as his hands were shaking while holding a piece of paper. his face was bright red and his voice was shaking and cracking up, as he recited his self written poem for you. When he was done he wished for the earth to open up and swallow him whole.

when you started giggling he thought you were laughing at him. he didn't dare to look up at you, his gaze was only burning holes into the floor.

but when he really tensed up was when you jumped at him and threw your arms over his shoulders.

ever since then, kazuha had written so many poems for you, and you had stored them all very carefully. one after another.

one time for his birthday, you tried writing him one, and although it wasn't the best, he treasured it like nothing else.

but also he treasured you.

for your one year anniversary you gifted him an old gramophone. you weren't sure if he was really going to like it, but he adored it.

ever since that day, most evenings were spent dancing to music, time passing so much faster than it seemed. your hands were locked and one of kazuhas hands was resting on your waist. one of his hands went through your hair.

On the first day you danced with him, he realized how much he needed you. you were his light, his hope, his everything. it's why he calls you 'his star'

Unfortunately, every star dies one day.

if you would ask him, his star died way too early.

On the night your light faded, a shooting star crossed the sky. kazuha knows you're only supposed to make one wish, but all of them crossed his mind at once. he wished he could dance with you again, he wish his fingers could make his way through your soft hair once more, he wished he could gift you more poems he wrote, and watch your eyes light up like the night sky does when the stars start glowing.

his breath hitched when he felt your hand touch his cheek once more. you gave him a last smile, and a tear rolled down your cheek. your hand fell from his cheek, but kazuha caught it mid air, and he held it to his chest.

later, a poem could be found on your grave.

in a moment of sorrow,

please let me borrow,

your healing light once more,

before i am found at our seashore.

It was the last poem he ever wrote.

#! vivi views #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin fanfic #xiao x reader #xiao genshin impact #xiao genshin x reader #wanderer #genshin wanderer #kunikuzushi #scaramouche #genshin scara #scara x reader #kazuha #kazuha x reader

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husbandograveyard · 1 month ago

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₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Part of my fluffember short writings - Masterlist ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Xiao (genshin Impact ) X Genderneutral reader ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊ Fluff - wc: 289 ₊˚｡⋆❆⋆｡˚₊

It took you a while to find your way into Xiao’s heart. By nature he stays away from almost everyone, just doing his job, wandering, protecting, patrolling. It’s what he’s learned to do to protect himself from anymore heartache. It’s a sad side effect from losing so many people near and dear to him, his heart filled with so much grief, there’s only so much place for affection left.

And yet. You were there with your endless amounts of patience, the most delicious almond tofu he’s ever tasted, and a certain charm that he found himself so incredibly curious of. You never tried to impose yourself on him, always left before he had the opportunity to excuse himself. It made him curious, and despite knowing better, it made him yearn for you. For the next time you’d meet, for the next time you’d say his name, have a brief conversation with him. The truth was that you were also so very eager to get to know him, so very eager to get closer to him. But he had his walls up high, and you didn’t want to impose. You didn’t want to scare him away. So you ran before he could send you away, and just like that, he started to run after you.

And that’s how your conversations slowly became longer and longer. It’s why he started asking for you on days when you weren’t waiting for him. It’s why he came by more and more often. It’s why he checked up on you sometimes at moments when you weren’t even expecting him.

It took you a while to find your way into Xiao’s heart. But once you were in, he was never going to let you go.

#xiao x reader #xiao genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #xiao genshin impact #genshin impact #x reader #reader insert #short #fluffy #fluffember #2nd person pov #gn reader

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ms-demeanor · 6 months ago

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do you ever struggle with deciding what to eat due to adhd?? i enjoy cooking and i'm not a picky eater nor do i have sensitivities but i struggle so much deciding that i always end up eating cereal or donuts

"What do you want to do for dinner?" is a conversation that could easily start a massive fight in my family when I was a kid and is my least favorite conversation to have.

Fortunately (hah) I have so many food allergies that my options are pretty significantly limited so my decisions on food are all based on A) what I have in the house or could easily get, B) how tired I am, C) what I *can* eat, D) if we have the money for it.

My grocery shopping strategy is centered around these ideas, so to a certain extent I've pre-made those kinds of choices so our "we don't know what else to do for dinner" meals tend to default to eggs and toast, grilled cheese and tomato soup, or tofu and rice because that's the stuff we've got on-hand.

IDK. I'm not picky, it doesn't generally take me a lot of effort to make food, and my biggest ADHD issue is "i forgot to eat and now it's ten and we're too hungry to wait for a full meal to cook." Those are the days when I'll end up eating cereal for dinner or having an instant soup packet or something, but I try to avoid that because that tends to be a pretty expensive way to get food (so it costs less to make two meals of rice and tofu plus two meals of rice and eggs than it does to eat four packets of soup or a box of cereal).

Sometimes I wander around looking in the fridge and the pantry and on the counter then back to the fridge and don't find anything that I'm interested in eating - the "I want something but I don't know what I want" issue - but mostly my problem is "it has been eight hours since I woke up I should have breakfast oh SHIT i'm really hungry what can I eat *right now* okay yes i guess i will have ice cream for breakfast."

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cottonlemonade · 9 months ago

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A Simpler Life [Part 1]

word count: 1585 || avg. reading time: 7 mins.

pairing: post-time skip Kita x chubby!Reader

genre: fluff, slice of life, mutual pining, slow burn

warnings: spoilers

synopsis: In pursuit of a calmer, simpler life you flee the city to move to the countryside - only to fall in love with your neighbor.

When you decided on a clean break and moved to the little country home, you finally got your long harbored wish of a manageable veggie patch as well as a few fruit planters, breathing clear fresh air that the city life had you only dream about for so many years. At first, of course, the people were suspicious of the newcomer - the foreigner-city girl who came to their part of Hyogo with no clear intention but when you greeted each of them warmly around town and offered an open door if anyone ever needed help, they soon treated you as one of their own. The grandmothers of the neighborhood quickly kept an eye out for any eligible bachelors because “it‘d be such a shame if a pretty girl like ya would be all lonesome in that house of yers“ but while grateful for their concern, you were happy on your own.

Although, that didn‘t stop you from falling for your neighbor as soon as you met him.

Your first impression of Kita was that he was polite, caring and warm but maybe a bit shy. He bowed his head with a smile when he passed by your front yard in the evening heading to his house, looking exhausted but satisfied. You wondered if he lived alone, too, because no one else seemed to be going in or out of the modest traditional nouka.

You were privately looking forward to the evenings when you could catch a glimpse of him and bask even for just a second in the sunshine of his smile.

This went on for a week or so of you two simply exchanging nods, waves and smiles until, “Good evenin‘.“, he greeted.

The buzzing of cicadas filled the air. You were tending to your garden, having opted to weed in the milder evening rather than the afternoon sun. A straw hat on your head, muscles already straining from the unfamiliar work, you straightened, trying to suppress a groan. “And to you.“, you replied, using the back of your hand to wipe the sweat off your forehead, smearing some soil on your skin in the process.

“It‘s really comin‘ together.“, he noted and nodded towards the healthy green surrounding your ankles.

Don‘t blush, you told yourself. “Thank you.“, you beamed, “I am worried about my tomatoes, though. They look a bit peaked.“

You pointed to some sad little plants on the end of your veggie patch.

With professional eyes he wandered along the fence to inspect them.

“Oh, yea, they might have had a bit too much sun and not enough water. Don‘t worry, happens to all of us.“, he smiled, “I have some extra starters in my greenhouse. Ya can have a couple if ya like. I always grow more in case bugs get to ‘em.“

“Oh, really?“

“Sure, come by tomorrow to pick ‘em up.“

“Thank you so much!“

“What else have ya got here?“, he now leaned on the fence post, examining the rest of the plants. You listed the few you had.

“Ya might wanna add sugar snap peas. They‘re easy to grow and the yield is really good.“

“Noted! But I might have to wait until next season, I don‘t think I have enough space for any more.“

“Ya can grow ‘em nicely in planters. I can build ya one. It‘s not difficult.“

Your heart did a little jump. “Are you sure it‘s not too much trouble?“

“Neighbors gotta stick together, right?“, he grinned and stood back up, “I‘mma let ya get back to it.“ and he made to leave.

“W-wait!“

He turned back to you.

“One of the grannies in town gave me a bunch of fresh greens and tofu today. My fridge doesn‘t work yet so I‘m worried it’ll go bad. Would you like to join me for dinner?“

He blinked. For a moment you weren‘t sure if you hadn‘t been too forward but then Kita nodded and walked around the fence to your gate. Oh my, somehow the fence had underplayed his handsomeness. As he stood right in front of you, arms tan and taut with lean muscles from a day‘s work and a towel tied around his neck you forgot to talk for a second.

“This way.“, you gestured to the front door.

“Don‘t ya wanna finish up weedin’ first?“

“But…“

“I‘ll help ya.“

“But…“

And he got to work. Of course, his practiced hands got the job done so much faster than you and where you had only managed a fourth of the patch he finished up the rest in no time.

Kita knelt on a seating pillow you had laid out around your coffee table, patiently waiting for you to plate up the hearty stew alongside some grilled tofu and rice. You figured he must be starving after all that hard manual labor. But to your surprise he ate slowly, chewed carefully and seemed to savor the taste.

“It‘s delicious.“, he said and let out a small content sigh, “I usually don‘t have much energy to cook in the evenin’s. This is great, thank ya.“

So he did live alone. How the masses of overzealous grandmothers in town hadn‘t flocked together to feed this man yet was a mystery to you.

In all honesty, Kita didn‘t agree with the people in town who said you were “pretty“. “Pretty“ didn‘t do you justice. He thought you were breathtaking. Because that‘s how he felt when he talked to you for the first time. Like his breath was stuck somewhere in his throat. Your genuine smile when he complimented your cooking now had a permanent place in his mind - framed it hung at the very top where he could always admire it throughout his day. Where his thoughts were usually busy with plans for the following morning or simply quiet, while his hands moved automatically through the water in the fields, they were now interlaced with you. Your twinkling eyes when he told you he would build you a planter, your cute protests when he offered to help you weed that tiny little veggie patch as if it was the most daunting task ever encountered and your voice, bright and lively as you told him about yourself upon his request. His grandmother had told him many stories growing up, about right and wrong, patience, kindness and fate. She told him when two people were meant for each other, their souls would recognize it and be drawn to the other by some unseen force. Back then, young Kita wasn‘t exactly sure what to make of it. It sounded very fantastical and without any data to back it up he thought it was another one of his grandmother‘s folktales. Now he wasn‘t so sure anymore because you were his first and last thought of the day.

He doubted that someone as beautiful and worldly as you would consider him as a match but he was merely glad to know he could be of help and make your life a little easier. After dinner the previous night he had told you he had some business in the city the next day and you could please wait for him at his place in the afternoon to collect your promised tomato starters. He had spent the morning making sure the little plants were in top shape, selecting the very best of the bunch. He was eager to get back home but as per usual, city traffic had other ideas.

Every couple of seconds he glanced at the clock on the truck‘s dashboard, hoping he didn‘t make you wait too long.

When he finally pulled into his driveway he spotted you sitting on his porch, his black and white dog lounging in your lap, getting his ears massaged.

A bundle lay next to you.

The dog‘s tail thwacked on the wooden porch as he approached.

“Ya look comfortable.“ He had meant it to his (guard) dog but somehow it seemed like your full cheeks got a bit of color.

“I hope I haven't kept ya waitin‘.“

“It‘s fine.“, you said simply, “I had great company.“ You petted the dog's head again who let out a happy huff.

Kita grinned and looked towards one of his greenhouses. “I‘ll go grab the tomatoes.“

You were brushing some dog hairs off your pants when he returned. Without meaning to, he searched your hands for an indication of a wedding band but shook his head when he caught himself.

He held out the tray with the starters.

“Thank you so much! They look great. And here.“, you bent down to exchange the tray for the bundle, “Since you said you wouldn‘t accept any money for them I made you dinner instead.“

His eyes widened. “Ya didn‘t have to.“

You shrugged. “I know, but it wouldn‘t feel right otherwise. And it‘s not like it‘s even close to an equal trade once these start producing.“

He was a little disappointed. After all, he had practiced inviting you to have dinner with him his entire drive back, but having more of your cooking was the next best thing, he supposed.

The following morning you found the bundle neatly wrapped on your doorstep, the large square bento box inside had been thoroughly cleaned and a note replaced the food “It was really delicious. Thank you very much. - Kita“.

Your heart stumbled when you stared at the neatly written words and grinning so hard your cheeks started to hurt, you pinned it to a little cork board next to the door.

a/n: thank you so much to @makkir0ll for helping me hatch this ostrich-sized brain egg 🌟

art: coloring done by @keiko-chan

[part 2]

#kita x chubby reader #kita shinsuke x chubby reader #haikyuu x chubby reader #chubby reader #haikyuu fluff #kita shinsuke x y/n #kita shinsuke x you #kita shinsuke x reader #haikyuu kita #kita shinsuke #kita fluff #hq kita #kita x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu x curvy reader #haikyuu x y/n

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percivaljacksons · 5 days ago

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those little town blues (pt 1)

the modern percabeth ghost whisperer au. girl, at this point you have to trust me. first 5k or so as i edit the big mama doc for ao3. sorry not sorry to tease! i'd give this section a t rating

“For someone who just moved here, you really know your way around,” Piper says. “I absolutely thought you were taking us to the wrong platform.”

Two descending notes play through the speaker above their heads. The Q train’s doors slide closed. The breaks release in a puffy exhale and the car lurches as they begin to move out of the Canal St station.

Annabeth shrugs. “I like research,” she says. “Figured if I was going to do the whole ‘move to New York as a broke twenty-something,’ I might as well be prepared for it.”

“What a load of baloney,” Percy says from somewhere behind her. “You were walking right for the Downtown platform, too. You could say ‘thank you,’ by the way.”

Piper doesn’t react—of course she doesn’t. She just tells Annabeth with a sheepish smile, “more than I did. God, this is so embarrassing, but I really did Uber everywhere for my first few weeks.”

“Asshole,” Percy cuts in again. “I can’t stand people who do that.”

Annabeth kicks one foot back as subtly as possible. She doesn’t feel it connect with his shin, but he does quiet down.

“You’re getting the hang of it,” Annabeth reassures her. “Silena said you moved here—what, two months before me?”

“Something like that.”

“Plus, I did a lot of exploring in the past few weeks and got turned around a lot of times. You’re seeing a well made facade.”

“Is that how you found that Wo Hop?” Piper asks. “God, I can’t get over that tofu. And it was in some random basement!”

While Piper waxes poetic about their lunch, Annabeth’s eyes slide to the left. It’s not an overly crowded subway car. There’s a couple pouring over the map on the wall, a short man reading a book in the seat parallel to the window, and around a dozen solo commuters buried in phones or listening to music.

But to Annabeth’s left, leaning against the door, is a man with short cropped hair and an angular jaw. His button up shirt is untucked, wrinkled, and saturated with blood. She has to breathe through her mouth because she can smell it wafting off of him. From the corner of her eye, she can spot the elderly woman trying to read over the shoulder of the man by the window, ranting a rant he can’t hear. And, of course, right behind her is Percy, dripping wet.

“I really hope you’re not about to take credit for finding Wo Hop on your own,” he says.

“...in an article, right?” Piper asks, forcing Annabeth to tune back in again.

“Yeah, about the James Beard Foundation Awards,” Annabeth says. “It’s officially an American Classic.”

“Fucking typical,” Percy says. “I’m not telling you where that halal cart is now.”

“So cool,” Piper enthuses. “I didn’t even realize how much food there was out there that I’ve never even tried, you know? This city is crazy.”

“Best city in the world,” Percy and Annabeth say in perfect unison.

Of course, only Annabeth and Percy know that.

It started on her third day in New York, because Annabeth has, in general, always had completely shit luck. With a week until her new job began and her boxes (almost) unpacked, she woke up to a sliver of perfect blue sky visible between the brick walls outside her window and decided to spend the day exploring.

While she waited for the shower to heat up, she drank a glass of water—straight from the tap—and looked around her joke of a studio apartment. Despite the near negative space she now called her own for the next twelve months, her singular closet was pitifully half empty.

Annabeth frowned into her water. Half full? She’d never had many clothes, was the point. The t-shirts and jeans she’d favored in high school had stopped fitting once she started doing track and field more seriously, and her college dorm room hadn’t offered an abundance of space, either.

She wandered back to the bathroom and stuck a hand under the tap. Only lukewarm. The previous two days' experience told her she had another minute before it would get hot, so she took out her phone and googled thrift stores nyc.

The results were almost too many to believe. She shook her head.

“Best city in the world,” she said to herself, and finally stripped down to step into the shower.

In the end, she chose a thrift store in lower Manhattan, a little to the east so it was on the yellow line and she wouldn’t have to transfer trains. It was close to Washington Square Park, too, so she could check that off her architecture bucket list. Just like that, she had a plan for the day—and Annabeth loved having a plan.

She flew down the four flights of stairs, keeping her eyes on her feet so she wouldn’t get drawn into whatever was going on with the man who always lingered on the second floor landing. He left something in his jacket pocket, but Annabeth had never stuck around long enough to hear what it was or who he needed to tell. She’d get around to it eventually. Probably.

After riding the N train two stops in the wrong direction, she managed to get on a Manhattan and Brooklyn bound W. It was all part of the learning curve. The car was near empty, so close to the origin in Astoria, so she found a seat by the window and watched as the lower buildings of northwest Queens morphed into the skyscrapers of Long Island City before the train finally went underground. She pulled a book out of her tote bag before long and focused her gaze on the paper, even though the letters were swirling around the page so aggressively that she couldn’t read a word.

Her dyslexia always got worse when she was stressed. She turned a page in her book, a perfect pantomime of reading, so that the three ghosts standing within fifteen feet of her don’t realize that she can both see and hear them.

Spirits, earthbound souls, whatever. They were all ghosts, really, haunting people or places or things. She thought maybe they were haunting this specific subway car, except a man in a navy suit got off at 59th street and one of them—the woman in bright red lipstick and a mink coat—followed him off.

Annabeth kept looking at her book, flipping forward a page every minute or so. She had long ago perfected the half-glazed over expression that tricked most ghosts into thinking she was just like everyone else—unable to see them. It was a small part of the reason she’d decided to move to New York: everyone here had that expression on. Everyone here avoided eye contact on the sidewalk and went about their business, so maybe—just maybe—Annabeth wouldn’t acquire her usual ‘rude and standoffish’ reputation.

One of the ghosts sat down next to her. He was mumbling in a language she didn't recognize. Hungarian, maybe—a relief. She wouldn’t have to try so hard to not react if he said something appalling.

Annabeth turned to the next page in her book. She didn’t even remember what it was about. The stops got more frequent in Manhattan, crawling at times only five blocks between stations after Times Square, before the W finally pulled into 8th Street-NYU.

Annabeth put her book back into her tote and stood, edging around the ghost’s legs with a mumbled, “excuse me.”

She realized her mistake two steps later, when the voice got panicked and excited, rapid-fire consonant heavy speech trying to get her attention again. Annabeth kept her head down and walked towards the closest exit like she knew it would take her where she wanted. It worked, either because he thought it was a fluke or he was tied enough to that train car to stay put, and when she walked up into the autumn sunlight she was once again alone.

Not unhaunted. She was never really unhaunted, but she could be—however briefly—alone.

Maps told her that the Buffalo Exchange was close, only a few blocks south. She made her way there, realized she was on the wrong side of the street, and blatantly jaywalked to get to her destination. One thing she certainly would not miss about California was driving and cars and mechanics. She hoped Clarisse would love the hunk of bolts Annabeth couldn’t have more joyously parted with.

The thrift store wasn’t too crowded inside, because it was around 11 on a Tuesday, so Annabeth took her time. She started in the back, sifting through women’s cut jeans and giving up quickly, moving to the men’s section in the front where the inseams were longer. She found a few potential successes, all dark wash enough that she could probably dress them up for work, and made her way towards one of the circular clothing racks in the middle of the shop.

Annabeth hadn’t lived on the east coast since she was twelve, but she remembered the cold bite of the winters. She didn’t have nearly enough sweaters to get her through January and February, only a few short months away. A few hoodies with stains and holes got flipped past, but eventually she came across a maroon crewneck with a faded lettering that said MONTAUK. She threw it on over her shirt and managed to catch her reflection in a nearby mirror—exactly the kind of baggy she’s always preferred. Perfect.

“That’s mine,” someone said.

Annabeth looked over and gasped. Standing next to her, soaked from head to foot, was a guy about her age. He was a bit taller, with dark hair plastered to his head and green eyes so bright they forced the air out of Annabeth’s lungs. Every inch of him was dripping water in the middle of the perfectly dry Buffalo Exchange.

“You can see me,” he realized, eyes getting wider. “You can actually—holy fuck.”

She bought the sweater, in the end, because she stopped letting ghosts decide what she was and wasn’t going to do a long time ago. Percy—I’m Percy, by the way, can you still see me?— didn’t seem to mind, even as she ignored him and checked out with her new pants and sweater.

“I know you can hear me,” Percy said, following her out the door. “You’re not a very good actor, you know.”

Annabeth pulled out her headphones and slipped them on. She fiddled with her phone, miming a call, and finally turned to face the very wet ghost beside her.

“Percy, you said?” She asked.

He grinned. “Yes! Yeah, I’m Percy. I can’t believe you can hear me. It’s, like, so great to talk to someone.”

“I’m Annabeth.” She didn’t reach out to shake his hand, because they wouldn’t be able to anyway. “I’m going to the park. Want to come?”

They walked the two blocks to the north side of the park, until Annabeth stood directly under Stanford White’s famous arch. She knew it already, of course—the Tuckahoe marble used to construct it, the fact that it commemorated the centennial of George Washington’s presidential address in 1789—but Annabeth’s favorite thing about architecture isn’t facts or materials. It’s the way she feels looking at it; it’s something about the innate nature of human beings and the way they just can’t help their desire to create.

She could see Percy out of the corner of her eye, watching her. As she stood there, her gaze still fixed upward, someone in a purple t-shirt walked right through him.

“Okay,” she finally said. “What’s your deal? Normally I’ve gotten a whole life story by now.”

“Normally,” he repeated. “This happen to you a lot?”

“Look, do you see a white light?” Annabeth asked, already losing her patience.

“A what?”

“God, I can really pick ‘em,” Annabeth muttered to herself. “A white light. Bright, blinding even. Maybe a loved one standing there waiting for you? Walk into it.”

“I—what?”

“Unless there’s something you’ve left unfinished?” Annabeth prompted. It usually went smoother if the ghost came to terms on their own, but this whole conversation was messing with Annabeth’s plan for the day. She wanted it over and done with.

“What are you talking about?” Percy asked, his accent hitting harder than it had before. His ah vowel was like an A and U and W smushed together. “Why are you the only one who can see me?”

Annabeth closed her eyes. “Fuck,” she said. “Seriously? This is just my luck.” She turned back to Percy, kind of vaguely relishing how no one around them seemed to care that she was talking to thin air. “You’re dead.”

Percy blinked at her. A drop of water made its way down the arch of his nose. “What?”

“I can see ghosts. Spirits. People who haven’t yet moved on.” She let that sink in for a moment, then added, “like you.”

“Moved on to what?” He asked, his voice getting louder with pure panic.

“Your guess is as good as mine,” she said. “I’m not dead. I just have the pleasure of seeing all of you on your journey in between.”

“Fuck. What the fuck?” Percy started to pace, his hands on his head. “I can’t be dead! That’s such bullshit. I’ve never even left the tri-state area! And I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about, lady—”

“Annabeth.”

“—Annabeth, because there ain’t no fuckin’ light, alright? There’s just this stupid park and a bunch of asshole NYU students walking right through me, and apparently, the only person who can see me is a goddamn Yankees fan, which is fucking rich. And!” He turned back to her, an almost triumphant expression on his face. “And I bet you you’re not from here, am I right? No shot.”

“I’m from…” Annabeth trailed off. She could’ve said Virginia, or the Bay Area, or something else. In the end, she just confirmed his suspicion. “I’m not from here, you’re right. This is my third day in New York.”

That made him laugh uproariously, too dramatic to be earnest, his hands flung out to the sides. “Of course! A fucking transplant in a Yankees hat. I can hardly believe my luck.”

With him standing facing her once more, Annabeth finally saw the logo made dark by his wet t-shirt. A baseball with dark blue skyline and orange piping, Mets written out across the front.

“Are you done?” Annabeth asked. “I want to go see the narrowest house in the city next.”

“I’m not a tour guide,” he seethed.

“Which way is Bedford Street?”

He pointed behind him. “Like, six blocks that way.”

And so Annabeth’s first friend in the big city was a chronically damp, kind of asshole ghost named Percy.

“Silena said Piper liked you,” Clarisse says. They’re playing Battleship online as they FaceTime, both unwilling to admit that they want to talk for the sake of talking, and certainly unwilling to admit they might miss each other.

It’s one thing to move across the country to an apartment you’ve never actually seen for the sake of a life you think you might like, and another to do it knowing you’ll leave behind the two best friends you’ve made in your entire twenty-two years on Earth.

That are still alive, at least.

“She was cool,” Annabeth says. “So different from Silena, though. We got greasy Chinese food.”

Clarisse snorts. “Uh, yeah. Duh. Get sunk, by the way.” Her missile lands in open water. “Seriously? What the hell.”

“Be better,” Annabeth replies, confidently clicking on G3. Sure enough, a tiny explosion graphic goes off on G3.

“What the—is there someone behind me giving you clues? I know that’s how you kept winning poker night in junior year—”

“I can’t see ghosts through FaceTime, that would be ridiculous,” Annabeth scoffs.

“Oh, that’s ridiculous,” Clarisse scowls. “Sure.” One of her shots finally connects, but Annabeth’s still smiling, two ships in the lead.

“Did I tell you I’ve got a new one?” Annabeth asks, pulling her fidget cube out from its drawer and flicking one side of it.

“A Casper? No.”

“His name’s Percy. He’s wet.”

“Is that some kind of horrible New York slang?”

“What?” Annabeth laughs. “No, he’s actually wet. Like, dripping water.”

“That’s new.”

“Plus, he had no idea he was dead. Bizarre.”

Clarisse frowns. Clarisse always looks like she’s frowning, so it’s really hard to tell when she actually is, but at this point Annabeth’s had years of practice. “That’s happened before,” she says.

Annabeth gets a flash of sun-bleached blond hair and that awful scar in her mind’s eye before she manages to shove it back into the box in the corner of her mind. “S’not common, though,” she says. “Usually means the death was traumatic.”

“Not to play Silena,” Clarisse says slowly, finally managing to figure out which way Annabeth’s submarine is pointing, “but should you be doing this?”

“Talking to you?” Annabeth snarks. Her next shot misses.

“Getting wrapped up in helping a ghost your first few weeks in New York. Isn’t that why you left California? Oh, get fucked, I knew that was your battleship.”

Annabeth shuts that right down. “I left because I got a job. I knew New York would have a lot of earthbound spirits; that was kind of a given, it’s huge. And yeah, I did say I was going to try and focus on me a little more, but…I don’t know, there’s something about him.”

Clarisse looks like she doesn’t know what to do with that. “He’s…nice?” She asks.

Annabeth laughs. “Uh, no. I’m not sure I would be if I just found out I was dead, so.” She shrugs. “I won’t be able to help him cross over until he starts to remember more, anyway. Googling ‘Percy NYC’ got me a dollar pizza place in the West Village and some place called Percy’s Tavern that isn’t even open anymore.”

“Silena’s going to be so pissed that all we talked about on our call is your new familiar.”

Annabeth sinks Clarisse’s final ship. “No, she’s not.”

Clarisse raises her eyebrows. “Oh, yeah?”

“Mhm.” Annabeth smirks. “Because you get to tell her that the new ghost is, like, seriously hot.”

Clarisse just shakes her head, grinning. “She is going to love that. Damn. Well, good luck. I’ll call whenever my ego can handle a rematch.”

“Okay,” Annabeth says softly. “Bye.”

“Love you. No homo.”

Before Annabeth can reply, she gets hung up on.

“Typical,” she says to her empty studio apartment. No one, alive or dead, replies.

“Alright,” Annabeth says as she steps out of her office building, her headphones on. “Where am I getting lunch?”

“I’m not telling you,” Percy sulks. “You just abuse my knowledge. I spent a lifetime accumulating this stuff, only to give it away to some yuppie. Barf.”

Annabeth picks a direction and starts walking. “I read that Ess-a-Bagel is good,” she says, already knowing what will happen next with only a week and a half of experience.

“Overrated,” Percy says. He can’t seem to help himself. “Like, it’s good, but they only put the seeds n’ shit on one side. Shmear options are okay,” he adds a little begrudgingly.

“Like, cream cheese?”

“Like, cream cheese?” Percy mocks, his voice high-pitched and whiny. “If you ask for them to scoop out your bagel, I’m actually going to start haunting you.”

“As opposed to what this is,” Annabeth murmurs to herself, well aware that he can hear her.

“Hey! I’m, like, super chill. I haven’t even tried to get your lights to flicker.”

“You’ve never even appeared in my apartment,” Annabeth acquiesces. “Or at work.”

He shrugs, falling into step beside her. “Seems rude.”

Annabeth almost stops in the middle of the sidewalk, she’s so surprised. “Okay, that’s a first.”

“Are the people you see always rude?”

She wrinkles her nose. “It’s more like…it’s all on their terms. No one’s ever been that concerned about appearing in the middle of my calc final, for example.”

“Yikes.”

“Exactly.” Despite having the light, she looks both ways before joining the crowd in crossing 6th. One of the idling cars honks at her.

Percy flips the car off. It doesn’t make a difference to anyone but her, but she appreciates it. “If you want to spend too much money on a bagel, I’m not going to stop you,” he tells her.

Annabeth walks into Herald Square; she’d rather go through a tiny park than down the crowded sidewalk. “Where would you go for a bagel?”

“Absolute Bagels. 108 and Broadway.”

She snorts out a laugh. “You knew that answer way too quickly.”

“I’m tired of these bougie, overpriced bagels! Absolute is good enough I drag my ass to the west side—that’s how you know it’s legit.”

“So you’re from the east side,” Annabeth follows, nodding. “Okay, that’s something. Remember anything more specific?”

“Yeah.” Percy grins proudly, pushing his wet bangs out of his face. “El Barrio, baby! Proud of it. Just off 2nd and…” His grin fades. “Shit. Goddamn it.”

“It’s okay,” Annabeth soothes. “That’s something. I’m assuming that’s…a Hispanic neighborhood?”

“Spanish Harlem,” he says. “East side, north of, like, 96.” He wrinkles his nose in distaste. “These days, north of 110.”

They’re already on the other side of Herald Square; Percy picks up into a jog. Annabeth follows suit, only realizing that he’s trying to catch the light before it changes a few seconds later. They make it to the other side and slow back to a walk.

“If you want,” Annabeth offers, “I could go there. With you, I mean. We could walk around, maybe spark a memory.”

“You’d do that?” Percy asks, his voice almost severe in its sudden quiet volume.

Annabeth shrugs. She pauses on the corner, barely a moment of hesitation, but Percy points diagonally to the side of the street she wants to be on. With a wince of thanks, she says, “I want to see more of the city. Might as well check off a good deed while I’m at it.”

“Well, I can make it worth your while,” he says with a confident nod. “D’you like Italian food?”

“Am I human?”

“Okay, so we’ll swing by Patsy’s, then. Oh, or Sam’s! And that bakery with the killer conchas—”

“I have no idea what that is, but I’m sold,” Annabeth says. “Why does Spanish Harlem have Italian food?”

He shrugs, sending tiny flicks of water flying. “Dunno. Better Italian food than Little Italy, though.”

“Haven’t seen it yet,” Annabeth says, pushing her way into the surprisingly large bagel shop and immediately struggling to focus.

“It’s mostly gone, honestly. Hey, you good?”

“Hm?” Annabeth blinks away from the menu behind the counter. “Oh, yeah, it’s just loud in here. You weren’t kidding about the cream cheese.”

Percy doesn’t say much as they wait in line, or as she orders—toasted sesame bagel with olive cream cheese—but he sort of squints his eyes, like he’s sizing her up.

“What?” She hisses out of the corner of her mouth as the cashier rings up her order.

Percy shrugs, the movement of his shoulders just barely visible out of the corner of her eye. “Nothing.”

She raises as much of an eyebrow as she dares, smiling quickly at the cashier, tapping her credit card, and hoping to get back outside as quickly as possible.

“It’s clearly not nothing,” Annabeth says once they’re on their way again. The bagel is hot even through the paper bag it’d been stuffed in.

Percy moves like he wants to grab the door for her, then awkwardly follows her as she jerks it open herself. “I just think you’re a sociopath for getting olive cream cheese.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “You’re so dramatic. Ever heard of not yucking someone else’s yum?”

“Nope. Where we headed?”

“I thought we’d sit in the park?”

“The squirrels are going to maul you.”

“Well, you’ve never seen me fight before.”

Privately, even as Percy laughs, she casts a few suspicious glances at lingering squirrels as they make their way into the park. Most are high in the trees or lingering around the trash cans. She picks a free table that’s far away from both, sits down, and kicks out the empty chair so that Percy can sit down, too.

“I feel like a food critic,” she says, unwrapping her lunch. She opens the bagel using two hands to get the visual, her stomach rumbling at the sight of cream cheese going a little runny from being sandwiched between two warm halves of bagel. “Except kind of like I’m cheating, you know? I haven’t had to look up any new things to try in two weeks.”

“You’re welcome,” Percy says. He rubs at one eye and flicks the water off his hand after. “But I feel like you should know that I’m not telling you everything.”

Annabeth gasps in mock offence. “But you’re so endeared by me.”

“Lie. I’m living vicariously through you.”

“By not telling me everything?” Annabeth asks cheekily, taking her first, relatively heavenly bite.

“You know what?” Percy says, clearly trying to sound pissed off but failing by laughing halfway through his sentence. He flicks some water at her, and Annabeth swears she can feel it land on her arm.

“What’re these big secrets you’ve been keeping?” She asks. “It’s not like I’ve gotten food poisoning or anything.”

Percy sighs, still kind of smiling. “Well, then they wouldn’t be secrets, would they? Gotta keep some stuff for the locals.”

Annabeth pouts. Percy rolls his eyes.

“Fine, whatever.” He jerks his thumb over his shoulder, gesturing back across the street. “You didn’t have to wait on line in there.”

Annabeth chews slowly, trying to figure out what’s been lost in translation. “I…ordered in person?” She says. “I didn’t use, like, an app or something.”

Percy looks just as confused. “Yeah, I was there. I’m saying you could’ve skipped the line.”

“No, you said I didn’t need to be online.”

“Yeah,” he repeats a little slower. “You didn’t have to wait on the line. Have you, like, stopped being able to hear me?”

“Who says wait on the line?” Annabeth asks incredulously. “You wait in a line, Percy.”

“Everybody says that! There’s an invisible line on the ground, and we all stand on it.”

Annabeth takes a bite without looking away from him, wondering how she ended up here. “I’ve literally never heard that before in my life,” she says through her mouthful. “Online is the internet. You wait in a line. I live in a city. I ride in a car.”

“You get on a bus. I ride on the subway. And I wait,” Percy says, leaning in, “on line.”

“Maybe you’re not dead,” Annabeth theorizes. “Maybe you’re a demon raised from hell, come to torment me. Maybe you’re from an alternate universe!”

“This is what I get for revealing the schmear only express line at Ess-a-Bagel.” Percy shakes his head. “I should’a known.”

“What?” Annabeth asks. “I didn’t have to wait in that stupid fucking line?”

Percy throws his hands up. “That’s what I’ve been saying!”

“Tell me that before next time. You had to wait in the line, too.”

He shrugs. “Not so bad. I’ve got nowhere to be.”

It sends her into a little bit of a tailspin. Sure, he’s actively dripping water on an otherwise dry and sunny day, but he’s around her age and died relatively recently, if the in-style cut of his jeans is anything to go by. He’s easy to talk to. It’s easy to forget he’s dead.

Annabeth takes another bite of her bagel. It’s a little strange that the sesame seeds are only on one side, but it’s just the right amount of chewy and pretty big for what she paid. The olive cream cheese is more of a disappointment, but she’s not going to tell Percy that.

“This is really good,” she says. “Your place is better? Or are you going to gatekeep that now?”

“Oh, shut up. It’s not like Absolute is a big secret, they’ve got a crazy line all weekend.”

“Good to know.”

“I don’t fuck around when it comes to bagels, Annabeth. Honestly, have any of my food recommendations let you down?”

“No,” she agrees. “Why do you think you remember all of that so well?”

He shrugs, his eyes sliding to the side. Annabeth doesn’t think he’s particularly interested in the squirrel eating a cigarette butt, so he probably just wants to avoid looking at her. It strikes her somewhere beneath her ribs, how sad it is, to wander around your home with only the innocuous pieces left.

Not for the first time, she wonders what will happen when she dies. Will someone see her? Will she even know that she’s dead? Will she be here, or in San Francisco, or on Berkeley’s campus, or back in Richmond? Has she ever known a place her soul would cling to?

“What’s your favorite thing about New York?” Annabeth asks, deciding suddenly to change tactics. “Since you keep insisting us transplants don’t know—”

“—know shit about shit,” Percy finishes. He looks back at her. “Uh, it’s the best city in the world.”

Annabeth rolls her eyes. “I know that. That’s why I moved here. You could argue that means I love it more than you.”

“Shut up,” Percy says, his face screwed up with indignation. “No, it doesn’t!”

“Great comeback,” she drawls.

“Okay, I love the people,” Percy answers. “I love New Yorkers, and the way we treat each other.”

“Like?” Annabeth prompts him.

“We leave each other alone, but if I’m short a dollar on groceries there’s almost always someone who’ll cover me. And I just…I love walking places, and the subway, and I love it when I hop the turnstyle so smooth you can’t even tell I jumped it. I love the old guys who play chess in the park. The graffiti. I love riding the bus at night and Biggie, and shitting on Jersey and the goddamn Mets. I love not giving a fuck, I guess.”

“Well, that’s things you love, but what’s your favorite?” Annabeth pushes. “Mine is easy, it’s the—”

“—the architecture, I know,” Percy finishes again. “I like that, too. I…well, maybe it’s the food. The food here is the best.”

Percy has admitted to never going anywhere else, so Annabeth doesn’t really know how he knows it’s the best, but she doesn’t call him on it.

“But my favorite…” Percy goes a little still, like he’s remembered something. “My favorite thing when I was a kid is gone now,” he says.

“Yeah?” Annabeth prompts

“Yeah. It was on the west side, if you can believe it. When you got off an uptown 1 at 79th, if you went up the staircase that took you to the northwest corner—there used to be a Circuit City there, next to the DSW.”

“There’s a name I haven’t heard in a while,” Annabeth mutters.

“Yeah, it closed ages ago, but it was in this little, two story building. And it meant, when you were going up the stairs, if you looked up all you could see was the sky. Like the sky was the ocean and you got to go down the ladder and jump into it.” He goes quiet for a moment. Then, “now there’s an ugly fucking apartment building.”

Annabeth resists the urge to scoff. “You think any new building is ugly.”

“That’s not true! I like the Jenga building downtown.”

“The Jenga…” Annabeth thinks. “You mean 56 Leonard?”

“Is 56 Leonard the building that looks like a wonky Jenga tower?”

“I—” She sighs. “Yes. But it’s a Herzog & de Meuron.”

“You’re a hotdog and demure one.”

“You’re not that funny.”

He shrugs. “I dunno, you’re smiling.”

You’re flirting, Annabeth realizes. You’re flirting with a ghost, and he’s flirting back.

“I can show you the ugly building some time,” he offers, blinking some water out of his eyelashes. “It’s right by the Natural History Museum. You like museums, right?”

“My second favorite thing about New York,” Annabeth confirms, and just manages to stop herself from saying it’s a date.

Her dad texts her on a Saturday morning, the first time he’s reached out since she moved to the east coast, and his message reads [ Hi, Annabeth. I hope you’re settling in well at your new job. How is New York? Let me know when you might be free to talk.]

She doesn’t respond for three days. What’s there to say? She wishes she could explain to him that you can walk south on the east side of Broadway, from Grand to Howard, and you can look up and see the top of One World Trade peak through the buildings. You can look down so you won’t trip over the subway grate, and when you look back up again 56 Leonard has taken its place.

She could tell him that if you walk past the entrance to the NQWR to the corner of Canal, you can see all of Herzog & de Meuron’s creativity, bottom to top, and you can decide that from then on out you’ll be calling it the Jenga Tower. She could type it out, or even try and call and inevitably tell him in a voicemail, but he wouldn’t get it. He’d probably say something ridiculous, like ask what Jenga was, or tell her about an exhibit that has something to do with planes that’s soon to arrive in the tri-state area, and Annabeth would remember why she hadn’t reached out either.

Instead, she tells him about work, and doesn’t talk about buildings or bagel shops or the bitter and charming conundrum of a ghost that’s taken to appearing at her shoulder as she makes a city her father hates her home.

#ghost whisperer au #my writing #percabeth #percabeth au #sorry to be chaotic again! but its fun #if u like a part of this and tell me what part i will immediately go into a fugue state where i write nonstop for many days #xoxo

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34rthangel · 1 year ago

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ok hear me out, imagine like xiao and wanderer ALWAYS fighting over u. u travel with wanderer EVERYWHERE and his excuse is because he's ur "traveling companion" he actually just loves seeing u everyday. but one day, u travel to liyue and when u call for xiao, he is THERE before ya know it. he side eyes wanderer SO HARD and then IGNORES his existence. wanderer notices but doesn't say shit until xiao holds ur hand saying, "let's get some almond tofu and chat". wanderer squishes himself in between u two saying, "sorry, didn't mean to get in the way." xiao is damn near red from anger but he contains it in front of u. u don't want to make them even more mad u won't tho bc u're their fav so you just try squeezing urself in between them and holding both of their hands. "let's just all go and not argue, please?", u say so kindly. they just shut and let u intervene. when u aren't looking, wanderer sticks out his tongue and xiao returns a death glare that doesn't seem to scare wanderer. at the end of the day, they will continue to fight over u until u chose one...or both

#xiao x reader #wanderer x reader #scara x reader #scaramouche x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #xiao x you #xiao x y/n #scaramouche x you #scaramouche x y/n #wanderer x you #wanderer x y/n #xiao x reader x wanderer #xiao x reader x scaramouche

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yzashaven · 1 year ago

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✰ ━━━ how they show affection for you <3

FEATURING scaramouche, tartaglia, xiao, albedo, thoma, kazuha, alhaitham, cyno x gn!reader

WARNINGS some are prob ooc 😭

NOTE (omfg these images are so low quality LMAO) on my past blogs, i usually only write nsfw so this is like... a change of pace? sort of... anyways hope you enjoy, likes and rbs are ofc appreciated! also, referring to wanderer as scaramouche since his name is player dependant

okay so hear me out when i say he seems like the type to take you to places with the prettiest views (shout out to his birthday voiceline) whether it be views of the sunset, a flower field, an ocean or beach view... as long as it's a pretty site to see, he'll take you there! scaramouche loves the way the places give him a peaceful feeling, and the way that it's just the two of you there? he's in paradise and heaven combined.

a bit similar to scara, tartaglia would take you to places. and by places i mean his homeland, snezhnaya, for the snow and to see his family. his little brother, teucer is certainly very fond of you, and tartaglia loves to watch you spend time with his siblings. he's such a family oriented guy... another thing he'd do is cook delicious meals for you! ranging from simple snacks to your personal favorites, and definitely some snezhnayan delicacies~

xiao is sweet to his lover, no doubt. but that doesn't mean he'll ignore his duties as an adeptus and focus on them. he expresses his love by protecting you... and maybe sharing his almond tofu. need his help? call out for him and he'll be there in an instant. also this whole love thing is very new to xiao, soo he's not used to things like hugging and kissing, yk those kinda stuff but he'll get used to it eventually. he does really like your company though, brings a smile to his face.

we all know albedo is a very amazing alchemist, he can make basically anything within a few hours or even minutes. he'd use his skill and powers to give you sentimental itemsㅡ such as a bouquet of flowers that never wither or ones that glow in your favorite color. If you don't really like flowers, don't worry, he can make whatever it is that you want! oh you want a dragon? he'll try and will come back to you with a small, cute, non-hostile looking one that protects you <3

he is sometimes busy due to work for the kamisato clan and being the "fixer" in inazuma, but he never forgets to make time for you! his love language is definitely quality time as he loves to just relax and accompany you wherever. another way thoma shows affection is through doing errands and other things for you such as cooking, cleaning around in your teapot realm, curing for your wounds if you ever get hurt, and maybe doing a commission or two of yours!

kaedehara kazuha... he's such a romantic man when it comes to his lover. he'll write you a poem literally every single day and compliment you every minute. kazuha also likes to run his hands through your hair as he whispers sweet nothings in your ear while you watch the sun set together at the best vantage point in wherever it is you're traveling at. he also definitely introduced you to his mom(beidou) so he takes you with him on the crux for fun adventures together! or just taking naps as the boat sets sail.

as the akademiya's scribe, alhaitham is often busy attending to those missions along with his personal investigations and other matters. so to prevent any lost time, he takes you with him. you're quite the strong fighter yourself so there won't be any problems, right? and if something bad does happen, he's your savior. despite talking sharply at times about how you weren't being careful or being reckless, he still loves you and will be happy that you're safe. alhaitham would reassure you about that too. also you study together at the akademiya library sometimes, he really likes having you around :3

cyno is a man of few words but reassures you about how much he loves you and would quite literally tear apart, limb from limb anyone that tries to harm you. cyno keeps a close eye on you especially when he senses danger is near, he wouldn't even wish for anything bad to happen to you. as the general mahamatra, fighting is practically his specialty which is why he uses that fighting experience and knowledge to protect you even if you tell him that you can handle yourself, he insists as he doesn't want to risk losing you like that.

#☾★ written »#genshin imagines #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #scaramouche x reader #tartaglia x reader #childe x reader #xiao x reader #albedo x reader #thoma x reader #kazuha x reader #alhaitham x reader #cyno x reader #gn!reader

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yourlocalstranger123 · 2 years ago

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Part 1

characters: Nahida, zhongli, Raiden/Ei, Scaramouche/wanderer, Xiao/alatus, Venti, dottore, Albedo, aether/lumine/traveler and abyss prince/princess, dainsleif, azhdaha, miko, celestial

Note: I put the celestials and zhongli even though I already did them because I forgot to put in what they would do if you finally are in Teyvat. Also, some characters don't have their own section, just in someone's else. [Like Miko in Ei's]

Warning: Some have slight NSFW, but technically, it's mostly SFW, slight yandere or maybe just full on yandere and obsessed. Idk-

[They all wonder why you're calling them your baby girl(s)—]

Celestials might be a little greedy for trying to convince or guilt trap you to stay with them a bit longer.....

Zhongli. [ I know I already did zhongli, but I didn't put in what happened when you finally got into teyvat] he was so thrilled. If he was in his dragon body, his tail would've been wagging like a dog. His knees became weak by your presence. He just wanted you to touch him. He finally felt the warmth...although azhdaha just had to steal you from him! He also had a dragon form, so why don't you ask him to transform into it? You could see him in a corner with a slight frown [pout]. At least he gets head pats. [He'll get spoiled sooner or later 🤭]

Xiao. He was loyal to zhongli for sure, but you? He is obsessed with you. When he was alatus, you were the light who he always kept precious. You gave him warmth all those torturous years. You were the reason he could endure it before zhongli had finally saved him from it. He didn't know you were the creator. But when he finally knew, he was so happy. You were always with him, giving everyone hope and the same warmth that you gave him to the others and his friends. Why are you keeping giving him tofu to summon him? He's so very grateful for your cooking and thoughts, but you don't need to. Just call his name with your beautiful voice. You still do it though, which makes him slightly flustered as you can see the tips of his ears go red as he greets you. He was so, SO flustered and shy when you let him on your lap and hug you or lay on it. His eyes went heavy as he closed them. The first time in his whole life, he had a wonderful dream....(of you)

Nahida. Honestly, she felt really happy with you. Even when she was locked away, she felt you reaching for her. She still could feel the warmth, and that's why she's still having hope for someone to save her. Since she is literally the god of knowledge, she already knew you were the creator. Honestly, when you finally went to Teyvat, she didn't expect to be your child suddenly. Although she's not complaining! She loves it when you smother her with your parently love. [You totally did not try to beat the soul out of the grand sages for locking her up, and people, even some of the archons, had to hold you down-]

Ei would be concerned. Who was interfering with her eternity? She didn't know how to react. She always some what felt guilty whenever she did the vision hunt degree. She ignored it all, though. Until when the traveler showed her the beauty of inazuma. It was so different from what it was before...'Maybe it wasn't so bad after all.' She thought. She had noticed that one thing that stayed the same forever was the warmth she felt. She soon found out the warmth was from the creator! Oh, she was so happy. She would make a room that would eternity be dedicated to you! When you appeared in Teyvat, she would be so dang nervous. She wants to be perfect for you. Everything must be! She was going to send Raiden in her place but didn't expect you to personally come over to her! She tried giving you a tour, but she didn't really go outside much, so....yeah, you're technically giving her one instead.. but at least you enjoy braiding her hair for her as Miko is sitting on your lap in her fox form. She's very fluffy when you pet her. [She would be so embarrassed and will malfunction if you ask how she can pull out her sword from her—]

Scaramouche would try to hunt you down honestly. Like who tf are you?? And where the heck are you?? (Imagine you haunt him and keep whispering, "You're shorttt") he was so ready to beat the crap out of you. But he just had to get used to it since he was busy becoming a God. And when he did, he felt your presence once again but clearer. He again ignores it and continues with the fight, which comes with a loss. He had become wanderer now, and he told Nahida that he thinks someone is stalking him. Nahida finally tells him that you're the all mighty creator. So you have been with him this whole time...? Why? He wonders If you forgive him for his sins.... why were you....calling him scarameow?? Is that perhaps another language for something? What does it mean? But it's fine. He still loves you. He got jealous one time and became a 'doll' for your entertainment. He's been doing that a few times. He liked it when one time you manhandled danced with him or even dressed him up [with lingerie]

Oh Venti, that drunkard bard. Oh, how he always speaks about you. He loved you so much. You always played as the wind when he was just a spirit. He always talked to you, although you can't talk, the wind tells him everything. He loved you so dearly. You always protected him in the war. You protected all the people. He understands that you can't stop people from dying of age. It's fate. But you had always accompanied him and his friend. That's all he needs, and he's grateful for it. He already knew you were the creator. The wind tells him everything. He didn't think that he would accidentally make the creator drunk! He promised he was drunk when he offered a drink to you! Or when he falls happily on your lap and arms by falling from the tree that was surrounded by a cat. [He also didn't expect the wonderful view of you on the side of the bed.....naked.....wait, WHAT— [ I mean...he's not complaining besides not having the ability to walk...or think anything besides you and how good you fu—]

Oh dottore. At first, he did not at all care about you. Even when worshipping the creator was public and a thing, he wasn't exactly dedicated. Until he found some ancient script of mechanics and bunch of successful experiments of creatures you did. He did some research and it turns out that those creatures was friendly to you and you did those experiments not so gruesome. So that's why they didn't hold a grudge at you. He became more interested and now it's apart of the research he's doing. And even experiments perhaps. He didn't know thr warm fuzzy feeling in his chest when he saw you smile in those ancient script. Although he may have kept it all a secret until all of the harbingers [except scaramouche because this is the time where he erases himself from all memories] finally found out about it. Oh how he felt when he finally gazes at your body. You looked so much better in the script. He always seek you out for experiments and research. You have the knowledge that even Irminsul doesn't have. Although his constant touch, glances and the way he looks at you with a slight red face doesn't go unnoticed by you when he conduct an experiment on you. [He couldn't forget the 'experiment' conduct on you last night ♥︎]

○ —○ — ○ — experimenters— ○ —○ — ○ — ○

Albedo. He's exactly opposite from dottore at the start, he was obsessed with you. He worshiped you with so many new creations from his experiments and thanked you for uniting him with Klee. At first, he didn't know about you and was curious why he always felt a comforting presence until aunt Alice told him that it was you, their creator, his creator.

He found statues of you that were cracked and was leaking a certain gold liquid. There was scroll. It seems that you made it with your own blood. He researched your statue and conducted careful experiments. He was a little...too fascinated about your body. Drawing you in robes, poses, and even....drew doing stuff to him. He took such care and worshiped it as if it was really you.... you looked way more divine than the statue that you carved yourself. He always wanted you to ask you....."What's the purpose of me existing?"

[You can insert your thoughts if you want, but here's my response to it]

"(1.) There's none. You just exist. I just create you. But...(2.) You can make yourself a purpose. A reason to live out your lives I gave you all. Like you, perhaps you make your own purpose to live is to make Klee happy."

His eyes glinted as you chuckled. He had been in deep thought for a few weeks. Then suddenly, he smiled. 'Perhaps.....'

Dottore and Albedo would 10/10 would be literal vampires. Including zhongli, I swear. The moment they taste your blood as an experiment or accident, they will crave for more. (I know they will literally moan in delight when they tasted it.)

Traveler and abyss prince/princess. How they both felt it. Your warmth. Traveler accepts it with open arms. Traveler thanked you for supporting them to find their sibling. But the abyss prince/princess isn't so fond about accepting it. They don't need your pity.... but they guess they can take it once in a while, you did offer to them, didn't you? Oh, Dainsleif. He doesn't think he should accept it. He wants to, but he is not worthy. But once in a while, when he falls asleep, his lips curve into a smile as he bask in your warmth. They can be selfish, right? You did offer you warmth after all..... The abyss prince/princess tries to kidnap— I mean *cough* *cough* take you away but the Traveler holds onto your arm, not letting go. The abyss prince/princess argues that when the time comes after they finally finish their journey, they can find a home with you! But the traveler pouts and still won't budge. Dainsleif just watches in the background, conflicted. Although....that doesn't mean he didn't have the desire to keep you with him either...

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